Praise
by GatesThistle
Summary: Maes showers those he loves in adoration and compliments. Roy is not sure he can handle it.


The first time Hughes said it, Roy did his best to ignore it, to pretend it had never happened.

He said it as if it were a throwaway observation, as if he were commenting on the weather and that made it particularly easy to ignore it.

Maes had simply thrown his arm around his shoulder and enthusiastically said. "You looked good out there." Ruffled Roy's hair companionably and continued. "You gorgeous man."

Then he had promptly pulled Roy into a closet and kissed the living daylights out of him, before Roy could process anything.

So yes, the first time it was easy to dismiss it.

This became increasingly difficult.

The deeper they got into whatever this was they were doing (Roy refused to call it love) the more Hughes began to shower him with compliments. Even with others Maes would begin to discuss Roy's talent and brilliance effusively, until the topic of discussion would become flustered and drag him away.

Maes couldn't seem to help himself. Even when they were naked and pressed against each other and Roy had long since been rendered speechless, Maes would continue to mutter incoherent words of praise into his skin.

He would push Roy against the wall, moving his way south, his mouth occupied alternately with kisses that towed the line between desperate and tender, and with small gasped phrases and words.

"You're so beautiful," he would say, lightly trailing his lips down the curve of Roy's hip, hands deftly undoing his pants while his mouth made its way just above the waistband. "Amazing. I want to touch you everywhere at once."

"I have a pretty good idea of where you can start," Roy managed.

Maes laughed as he removed the pants. Roy sighed in relief and anticipation, however Maes continued to put his mouth anywhere but Roy's cock, placing feather-light kisses on each of his thighs, even going so far as to trace his tongue up the inside of one.

"Maes." Roy meant it as a warning but it sounded much more like a moan.

Maes smiled up at him. "And your voice. God, everything about you is perfect."

"Maes," Roy said again, slightly more composed this time. "If you don't shut up and…" his sentence was successfully cut off with a strangled inhale as Maes deliberately ran his tongue up the shaft, swirling it experimentally over the tip.

Even when he was utterly incapable of talking, it still felt like he was lavishing praise, utterly worshipping Roy's body, doing everything he could to show exactly what he felt and how much.

It was overwhelming. Roy had never had anyone give him such adoring, selfless attention. He didn't even know how to begin to reciprocate, but it seemed like Maes never expected him to do anything but receive all the praise and attention and love Maes seemed to constantly exude.

And maybe, Roy would think in the aftermath as Maes whispered compliments and declarations that all blurred into nonsense and as their limbs tangled together all sweaty and growing numb, maybe that was something he could do.

After Ishval, that became something impossible to do.

It hurt enough to accept the praise from his superiors and colleagues about his work there with a polite smile and a nod. It hurt so much that as soon as they were gone he had to talk himself down from the ledge again and again. It hurt even when they clearly didn't mean it, even when he could see his own pain and self-loathing reflected in their eyes.

It hurt, but it was still easier than the pure earnestness of praise from Maes.

Maes knew what he had done, knew the effect it had had on him, knew that he would never be able to see himself as anything but a monster from then on, and still he persisted, constantly telling him he was capable and worthy and utterly brilliant and so very strong and the most beautiful human being he had the pleasure of knowing.

And Roy couldn't take it.

Being commended for his atrocities left a bitter taste in his mouth, but reminded him of what he was. This never ending wave of unadulterated admiration, however, was too much. It was so heartfelt and Maes so honest in his delivery it almost made him want to believe.

The first time after Ishval, Roy had come to him torn between hoping he was justified and Maes would hate him as much as he hated himself, and fearing that the only person who had loved him so openly would take that away as soon as he knew what Roy truly was.

His fears were not realized, and he was unprepared for how much that could hurt.

He had come looking for pain and release from this horrible control he seemed to have over his own body.

Maes, infuriatingly, refused to indulge him.

For once, there were no words. Maes, who couldn't ever seem to stop talking, said nothing as he gently laid Roy down and slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, pausing after every button to kiss the strip of pale flesh each revealed.

Every touch was reverent and painfully gentle, and each thrust was slow and firm and made Roy's toes curl in sweet agony.

Whenever Roy caught Maes' eyes, He could easily read the words that went unsaid there, in his look of pure wonder from watching Roy beneath him.

Roy arched against him and came with a declaration on his lips, which he repeated as a mantra as they both came down, and Maes placed silent kisses along his neck and shoulder and back.

When Roy finally fell silent, Maes pulled him closer against his chest and finally spoke.

"I will follow you until the end," he said, kissing the back of Roy's neck. "Because I believe in you."

It hurt. And it was enough for now.

**Author's Note:** Wrote this in a very short amount of time and published after minimal editing, so sorry about that. In the beginning i just wanted adoring Maes and flustered Roy and then it accidentally got angsty? But yeah, first fic for FMA and this pairing which I'm sorry but I ship so hard. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
